We ended up leaving the hospital on Friday. Probably the latest discharge we’ve ever had, almost 9 pm. So late it almost didn’t happen. IR and surgery were arguing back and forth about blood thinner dosing. IR wanted a full dose of the costly Eliquis oral blood thinner, and surgery wanted a half dose. Apparently it can affect the kidneys. So, surgery wanted to wait till Amanda’s new bean was perked up and doing better. Also, from a surgical standpoint, they didn’t want the blood too thin. The compromise was that we would come back for stat labs on the transplant floor early on both Saturday and Sunday morning.
The stents ended up being a kissing stent. Neither of us had heard of that. Amanda said they must be touching and why they called it that. We ended up looking them up, and a kissing stent is in a junction, like a Y. Think of plumbing for a second, cardiac plumbing! For Amanda, this stent was in her superior vena cava (SVC), the large vein where all blood from the upper extremities enters the heart, and where it branches into the right brachiocephalic vein, the vein that brings blood from our right upper body to the SVC. When Amanda said two stents touching, I was thinking end-to-end, kissing. After I saw the pic of a kissing stent, I told her they looked more like they were making out!
On the way home, we grabbed some fried chicken from Hattie B’s, a staple Nashville hot chicken spot—no heat for Amanda and all the heat for me. Amanda had meds to take once we were home, so she worked on them. For a bit after dinner. It’s a pretty big haul of meds and takes her quite a while to get them all down. She was most excited about a shower without any lines! Her first line-free shower since December 2024. So, she didn’t miss that before we settled in bed for the night.
Saturday and Sunday weren’t filled with much, other than getting up too early to go to the hospital. We did go out for a July 4th car ride with Tank. He got his own corn dog and was pretty excited about it! I pleaded my case with Amanda for an all American hot dogs for dinner. She’s not a fan of hot dogs, so it took some work! They are listed on some transplant diets along with deli meat as a no-go. Surprisingly, there are many issues with both. The remedy is to cook them thoroughly; even lunch meat needs to be heated to 165 degrees. I wasn’t planning on us eating a raw hot dog, so we were good. If you eat any uncooked minced meat products, i.e., hot dogs, Vienna sausage, spam, and whatnot, I think you are diabolical! I know they were originally cooked, but that doesn’t count.
We waited for labs a while both Saturday and Sunday. Not as long as we’d thought since they were stat, but I didn’t understand why we couldn’t wait at home! Amanda’s kidney numbers were headed in the right direction, but not as fast as they wanted. We barely escaped a readmission on Sunday waiting for the final word from IR that we could leave. They still wanted every other labs and we’d reassess on our Wednesday kidney transplant follow up.
Sunday night was the first night I’d cooked dinner; we’d been grabbing meals or ordering delivery, whether from DoorDash or from someone from church who’d brought it by. It was good to have a Barkley cooked meal. Not tooting my horn, but I was just good to have a normal meal for us and something we both liked that wasn’t from a restaurant.
On Monday, we didn’t have to get up too early, but we still had to be up and going in the morning. I’d asked the surgery NP if we could just get labs at a Vanderbilt walk-in clinic in Walgreens a mile from the apartment that Amanda usually uses. They approved, and we saved sitting around in a hospital room all morning. There were some issues with the lab orders, and it took a while to sort them out and get ahold of the kidney coordinator. Long enough for us to make a Costco run and grab lunch.
While we waited in the clinic, a lady came in with a sore throat. I’m pretty in tune with my surroundings, not in a snooping way; I’m just not buried in my phone so deep I don’t know what’s going on like so many others. I overheard this lady asking how much her visit would be with her insurance. I’d had the same visit a few days prior; it was a $20 copay for me with our great insurance. Her balance would be $175. I didn’t catch everything, but I understood it would be a financial strain on her. The NP came out to talk to her and explained that she needed to be checked for strep and that she’d recommend doing at least that. I could see the poor girl calculating it all. The receptionist ended up telling her of a cheap walk-in clinic somewhere in her neighborhood that had a $40 visit without insurance. She left headed there. I just thought how fortunate we are to have the insurance we do. Not once has the amount I’d owe ever come into play in a medical decision. How to afford the travel to the hospital, the lodging and food while there, yes, but never the cost of medicine or healthcare. We are blessed.
Tuesday was supposed to be a Bilbo Baggins day, but we had a rescheduled appointment we missed land on today. I really need a day that starts without an alarm, a late sleep-in, and nothing but multiple meals and napping on the agenda to catch up. The appointment was to remove a stent from the kidney transplant, which was over a month ago now. Amanda has a stent in her new ureter, the tube that carries urine from her kidney to the bladder. My understanding is the stent extends the length of the new ureter. It prevents leaks, reduces swelling, and ensures urine flows freely.
The stent was scheduled to come out as an outpatient procedure, but we were still inpatient, and they don’t do the procedure in the hospital. It’s said to be quick, painless, and easier for women than men. I’ll hold back all the sixth-grade-level jokes that come to mind to myself! Still, though, a lighted scope is threaded up the nether regions, then into your bladder to grab the stent and yank it out; male or female, that sounds painful even if it is quick!
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